


What Winter Took Away (love is not enough)

by CandiceWright



Series: Devotion Through the Seasons (Love in Four Acts) [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Episode Related, Episode: s05e12-13 The Diamond of the Day, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Magic Revealed, You Have Been Warned, this is pure pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandiceWright/pseuds/CandiceWright
Summary: But Arthur is hurt and his words cut through Merlin like a knife. How could they not? Saying that he admires him only to dismiss him in the next breath. And if that's the last time he's going to see his King he wishes he could be remembered as the brave one, the lionheart, not the coward that he appears to be now, that he feels like he is.But it isn't the last time, it can't be.He will see him again even if he has to tear the earth in half to do so.He can and he will.With that thought in mind, he leaves the castle to go to the crystal cave.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), implied Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Devotion Through the Seasons (Love in Four Acts) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586317
Comments: 37
Kudos: 134
Collections: The Merlin/Arthur Kiss Fest 2019





	What Winter Took Away (love is not enough)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are! This is the end of the series. I know I said I'd post it earlier but it turned out to be way longer than I expected.
> 
> I already said this in the last one but I'll say it again: this is an angsty series. Proceed at your own risk.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think!
> 
> Written for The Merlin/Arthur Kiss Fest 2019

_What Winter took away_

_From the arms of love_

_It ripped with force_

_With the urge to part_

_Jealous of Summer's warmth_

_And Spring's passion_

_If just to satisfy_

_His own cold heart_

_Enough to soften the Fall_

_Were his parting words_

_But, oh cruel Winter_

_From me you took those too_

  
  


The battle of Camlann.

His blood runs cold when he hears the name.

The prophecy is chasing him and his mistakes are helping it come to pass.

He knows what's going to happen, his heart tells him that it is. But he can't accept it. He can't because that would mean accepting Arthur's death and he can't do that after spending 10 years protecting him, breaking his own heart just to keep him from harm. He can't because he knows he's capable of doing whatever it takes to change destiny, even if it means sacrificing himself.

But then Mordred tells Morgana that he's Emrys and she takes his powers away.

Now he's helpless.

He's never felt like that, so vulnerable, so empty. It comes close to the pain he felt when Arthur married Gwen and _fuck_ he hasn't missed that earth-shattering ache that runs through his veins, splitting him apart. 

Except, this time, he can't see a way out.

Getting his powers back is the only way of saving Arthur's life but it's no simple task. For one, he can't do it alone and _dammit_ he shouldn't be bringing anyone into it. 

But he has to. 

So he asks Gwaine to go with him to the Crystal Cave.

And that means he can't go to Camlann.

He goes to Arthur's chambers that day, his entire body shaking and trembling because it feels like he's going to explode and he can't do anything about it, he doesn't know how to stop it. But he manages to complete his chores flawlessly. At least Arthur won't be able to complain about his skills then.

Telling Arthur of his absence on the battlefield is necessary, but oh how he wishes he wouldn't have to.

But he speaks, trying to put on a brave face. But Arthur is hurt and his words cut through Merlin like a knife. How could they not? Saying that he admires him only to dismiss him in the next breath. And if that's the last time he's going to see his King he wishes he could be remembered as the brave one, the lionheart, not the coward that he appears to be now, that he feels like he is. 

But it isn't the last time, it can't be. 

He will see him again even if he has to tear the earth in half to do so. 

He can and he will.

With that thought in mind, he leaves the castle to go to the crystal cave.

Gwaine senses something isn't right during the trip but he doesn't question him and for that Merlin is grateful. He doesn't think he can reveal his secrets now but he also doesn't have the strength to hide them.

Then they get attacked and for a second he realizes what it means, what it _truly_ means to be scared.

It' then that he understands that he has to get his magic back or else the battle will be lost and he can't afford that, he can't.

So he leaves Gwaine with a goodbye that feels too final, too serious for both of them. But it has to be that way because he knows that the chances of him making it out alive are slim and he doesn’t want to leave without a proper farewell. 

He goes into the cave in search of the answers he needs and he can’t help but remember the last time he was here, when everything was simple, when life was bright and death hadn’t claimed his conscience. 

But now that darkness he's created has found him, for Morgana has followed him into the cave. And no great amount of bravery he can display is any match to a High Priestess of the Old Religion, not when he's so powerless. Her wrath runs him over and renders him powerless once more, leaving him locked in the cavern, his spirit broken and willing to admit defeat. 

He screams in rage and pain, not for himself, but for his King who he cannot save.

Walking towards the light of the crystals, he lets the last bits of hope leave him and the nothingness takes over.

He doesn't remember passing out but when he wakes up it's to his father, who has appeared in front of him and his heart feels lighter for a second because if he is to die he’d rather do it next to someone he cares about. However, the man isn’t about to take Merlin’s words for an answer and he speaks a truth that in any other moment would have threatened to break him, but now gives him the strength he needs to go on. 

_Merlin, you are more than a son of your father. You are the son of the Earth, the Sea, the Sky._

_Magic is the fabric of this world, and you were born of that magic._

_You are magic itself._

_You cannot lose what you are._

So he looks in the deepest corners of his being for the vestiges of power that Morgana’s weaker–though still strong–magic had left. 

And he pulls.

He feels it, oh how he does. The surge of warmth running through his veins like the first rays of the spring sun on the snows winter left behind. Taking out and placing it on his fingertips causes the most wonderful emotion to settle in his heart and, in response, it creates life out of the newfound hope.

The blue butterfly flutters through the room and he can’t help the smile that escapes him, because Morgana had managed to paint his soul black, but the light within him was stronger.

And so is his magic.

So he has to stop the battle.

He _can_ stop the war.

He approaches the crystals and tugs on his bond with Arthur, hoping to reach him. Then, without being able to explain how he knows that he did it, he talks to him and warns him of Morgana’s plans.

And then he runs.

He has to reach Camlann in time.

He disguises himself as the old man because he can’t afford being stopped or recognize. After the battle, he’ll tell Arthur. But he wants it to be on his own terms. 

He reaches the mountain top and he tries to find golden and blue. But then he hears the incomparable sound of pain and the scent of death reaches him and he knows he can’t let anyone else die. So he calls on lighting. He thinks it a fitting conclusion, to end this how he’d started it, bringing death from the skies.

It's then, looking down at where he had just struck with his magic that his eyes meet Arthur's. Endless amounts of relief wash over him because _he's safe. Oh God, he's safe._

At that moment Aithusa starts approaching the army again, ready to attack, and it hurts because he should have avoided it, he should have taken care of the dragon better, but he didn’t and now he can't do anything but command her to stop. She does, if only because she can’t refuse him, but at least he has taken away Morgana's last advantage.

The battle is won now, he knows. The Saxons are starting to retreat and sombre grief is now the only thing that fills the heavy air. 

But the war isn’t over.

He has to find Arthur.

Running as fast as his old bones allow him to, he reaches the battlegrounds. Hundreds, no, thousands of bodies lie still at his feet and if he were to think about it he might consider himself heartless for not caring. But he can’t care because right now Arthur could be dead and the mere possibility makes his heart constrict and break in a million small pieces, getting stuck in his skin and tearing him apart.

But then he sees him.

And, Gods, he’s too late.

He drops to his king's side and tries to take his pulse with shaking hands because _you can’t be dead, yet. Lord, please don’t be dead. I need you, I love you, please-_

It’s there.

It’s weak, but he has a pulse.

Not caring about his complaining joints, he gathers his King in his arms and carries him out of the battlegrounds and into the forest. He lays him on the ground carefully and inspects his wound, feeling the pain of it as if it was his own. Then he remembers his appearance and he decides to go back to his normal self, if just for Arthur’s sake.

Now he has to make a fire, he knows, so he gathers the only wood that isn’t damp from winter’s tears and brings them to were his King is resting. He takes a moment to look at him because even like this, pale and still, he looks beautiful and once again Merlin is reminded of just how deep his devotion runs. _I should have been there. I should have looked for you first. Damn my heart for deciding to be selfless for once,_ he thinks for he believes it to be true.

A gust of wind caresses his face in gentle reassurance and only then does he remember the fire that is yet to be lit.

He crouches down and lets his magic create a flame. Maybe if Arthur wakes it'll save him the trouble of confessing his secret.

But it's when he's looking for some more timber that Arthur rouses, his grunt of pain snapping Merlin out of his thoughts.

He rushes to his King's side and tries to hold him steady because seeing him in pain makes him ache and his stomach twist in guilt.

  
Arthur asks of his whereabouts and the reality of everything hits him.

He has to tell him now. 

What he did, what he is. 

The secret he’s kept under lock and key for so many years.

So he does.

The words the have been his biggest fear slip out of his mouth and for a moment he thinks _this is it, it's finally done._

But Arthur's reaction is not one of fear or pain, but one of pure disbelief.

He’s tempted to leave it alone, to claim it a mistake of exhaustion, a mere slip of the tongue. But it’s too late to go back.

So he shows him

A dragon surges from the embers and its warmth shakes Merlin to the core, thick emotion at seeing beauty rise from the ashes. He looks back at Arthur, eager to see something, anything close to acceptance in his eyes. But instead, he finds betrayal.

His heart breaks.

_Leave me_ , Arthur says and he’s never said that before. Not when they didn’t dare to touch each other, it had been stolen glances and looks then. Not when he married Gwen, then he’d only been met with cold indifference.

But this time he's asked him to leave and Merlin is as good as dead being away from him.

He tries to protest, tries to make Arthur see he’s on his side, but Arthur pushes him away. 

So with heavy feet and an even heavier soul, he complies.

And that’s how they spend the night. Two broken men, both in body and soul, in the cold winter night.

Merlin doesn’t sleep and he doubts that Arthur does either. But when he checks on him in the morning his eyes are closed, so he lets him rest.

Gaius arrives and inspects Arthur and Merlin prays for him to tell him that it’s not too bad, that he can do something, anything. But he only confirms his worst fears.

Arthur is dying.

And his only hope is making it to the Lake of Avalon in time.

He manages to convince Arthur that they need to leave with Gaius’ help, however reluctant he is to go with him. Gaius reassures him that he was right to tell him but right now he isn’t so sure.

Before they depart Arthur gives Gaius the royal seal and asks him to take it to Guinevere and Merlin can’t bear thinking about a time when Arthur might not be the King.

But he can’t think about that right now, he has to focus on getting Arthur to the Sidhe.

Two days.

He has two days before the sword fragment reaches Arthur's heart.

So they ride towards the lake.

During the trip, Merlin is met with cold silence from Arthur and it would hurt if he was thinking in anything other than his King’s safety. But he isn’t, so he keeps going, he keeps walking.

Merlin sees the figures in the distance and he hopes, prays that they aren’t Saxons. But, of course, there is no such luck. He is forced to try to hide just who he’s travelling with. 

They aren’t fooled.

So, for the first time, Merlin uses his magic in front of Arthur knowing full well that he is looking at him, that he knows what he’s doing. Though he doubts Arthur sees it as what it is, an act of loyalty. he’s right, for Arthur says _you’ve lied to me all this time_ and Merlin would cry if his eyes hadn’t dried the night before.

He keeps moving, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest.

After a short while, that feels like an eternity the night falls and Merlin stops to make camp. he tries to start a fire, but the cold and damp air of winter makes it impossible. It’s then that Arthur asks why he doesn’t use magic. _Habit, I suppose,_ he says and it’s true. It feels weird, wrong even to use it in front of Arthur for something so mundane. Then Arthur speaks words born of betrayal that cut through Merlin’s skin like a dagger. But he does his best to ignore them as to not make him angry or cause him more pain. 

Then he goes up to the King to take his boots off. 

Arthur looks at him like he’s doing something strange like he shouldn’t be doing this. But Merlin can’t think of another thing he’d rather do except for wrapping his arms around him, of going back to when they held each other with promises of love and forever.

Instead, he slips away and tries to sleep only to be met with nightmares and tears.

In the morning he prepares breakfast for Arthur because he needs him to keep his strength today. He settles by his side, happy to find that Arthur is willing to let him help him eat. but it’s not that simple, for he moves away and asks him why he’s still behaving like a servant. _That’s all I ever was,_ he wants to say but he doesn’t. instead, he speaks of his destiny, of his purpose. He recalls their first meeting if only to force a shy smile out of the man. Then the pain takes over and Arthur’s words turn harsh again, But Merlin can't help but pour out his heart, so he echoes the words that Arthur had once said to him.

_I also do this because you’re my friend and I don’t want to lose you_.

After that, there’s not much room for conversation so Merlin decides they have to keep going. But Arthur is weak and not long after he needs to rest. Merlin all but begs him to hold on because he’s slipping away and he can't bear it, he can’t bear to lose him.

Arthur manages to stay awake and then he asks, almost to himself, why he’d never told him of his magic before. Merlin doesn’t have to read his mind to know what he’s really saying.

_Even when I trusted you, when you were in my bed you lied to me._

He tries to lighten the mood by joking about his fear of execution which, in fact, was the thing he was least afraid of when it came to admitting his secret. But Arthur doesn’t buy it and he says his truth, that he doesn’t know what he would have done. Merlin knows this, he always has. So he tells him, _and i didn’t want to put you in that position._

And for the first time since he revealed, his magic Arthur looks him in the eye and smiles, understanding. Because that’s what worried Merlin the most. 

Not himself, but Arthur. 

Always Arthur.

They keep going a short while after. They come across something that looks like a Saxon camp so Merlin uses his magic to see if they’re still there. but they’re not, and he tells Arthur so. _So you’re not an idiot, that was another lie,_ Arthur says, his tone bitter but not that far from their usual banter. So Merlin responds in kind, giving him a bright smile and saying _No, just another part of my charm_. Arthur smiles back for a second before his expression melts into something darker, sadder.

They ride for a few more hours before they hear one of Morgana's patrols. They hide behind some foliage and Merlin makes sure to cover their tracks because the last thing they need right now is to be discovered. Once they’re out of danger Arthur surprises him saying something that sounds a lot like acceptance, understanding. _All these years, Merlin. You never once sought any credit._

_That’s not why I do it,_ he says.

_I do it because I love you,_ he doesn’t say, but he thinks Arthur understands anyway.

It’s night again when Arthur says he can’t go on and Merlin decides to make camp for the night, the King tries to tell him something that sounds too much like goodbye and Merlin can’t hear it, he just can’t, so he tells him not to speak. 

_I'm the King, Merlin you can’t tell me what to do,_ Arthur tells him _._

Merlin laughs at that because when has he done what Arthur told him to? He’s not about to do it now. 

_I don’t want you to change. I want you to always be you_. 

There’s so much love in those words that Merlin’s heart almost bursts at the seams. 

He's close to tears when Arthur passes out and he can’t help his hands when they reach for Arthur’s face, touching him gently, lovingly, wishing him to sleep well.

The next morning Arthur is closer to slipping away. Merlin knows it, he sees it in his posture in the way he’s slumped over his horse, in the colour of his skin. And it’s confirmed when Arthur says he can’t go on not two hours after they leave.

Merlin begrudgingly agrees to take a break and he helps Arthur settle against a log.

But then a loud sound makes the horses run away.

And then Morgana is there.

Her words feel like poison coming from her mouth and it hurts knowing that he caused this, but Merlin is done with her games. She has already caused too much pain and he isn’t willing to let it go on. 

So he takes the sword, the one he knows can kill her.

She raises her chin, defiant, thinking he doesn’t know what he’s doing, that a mere sword isn’t going to kill her.

But he thrusts it into her body.

_This is no mortal blade_.

Blood paints his fingers red as Morgana makes strangled sounds of pain. He pulls back, and with the sickening sound of broken skin, she falls to the ground.

_Goodbye, Morgana._

He leaves her behind going back to Arthur. For a second he wonders when it became so easy to end the life of someone who he once held dear, but then Arthur’s words remind him that there was nothing easy about it. 

_You brought peace at last._

He keeps walking towards the lake which is now in sight. _Keep going, I have to keep going. I have to get him there, I have to-_

But he doesn’t

Arthur falls to the ground and it’s when he says _not without the horses_ that Merlin realizes he’s giving up. He desperately tried to get him to move, to get to the place that is now so, so close.

But Arthur speaks and Merlin can’t do anything but listen.

_Just hold me._

So he does because he can’t ever let go.

He doesn’t want to listen to him because whatever he’s going to say next is going to be goodbye and he can’t- _he just can’t-_

But Arthur looks at him with those blue eyes that have carved their way into his soul and listening is the only thing he can do.

_Everything you've done, I know now. For me, for Camelot, for the Kingdom, you helped me build._

He can’t bear it. He hasn’t done anything, he’s failed -

_You would have done it without me_ , he says because he believes it to be true. right now he feels useless, helpless, lost.

_Maybe_ , Arthur says and smiles and Merlin’s heart aches because he knows it’s the last time he’ll see that smile. 

_I want to say something I've never said to you before._

Arthur places a hand in the back of his head like he’d done many times in the past before he’d pulled him in for a kiss. And that's what he does. he kisses him, sweet, loving, apologetic. And that kiss is devastating, but it’s nothing compared to his next words.

_I love you._

His touch starts slipping away from Merlin’s skin and that can’t be it, that can’t be the end. So Merlin shakes him and screams his name.

It works, for Arthur’s eyes open again and looks into his.

_Arthur_.

Arthur’s hand cups his cheek where it’s wet from the tears he hadn’t noticed had started falling.

_It was you. It was always you and I was too much of a coward to fight for us, Merlin and I'm sorry for that,_ he says smiling, like he’s confessing his sins before crossing to the other side, only to get there with a light heart. 

_I love you_ , he repeats.

But then his eyes roll back and his hand falls. He goes still, _too still, oh god, why so still-_

He screams, he shouts, but it’s useless. 

Arthur’s dead.

_Stay with me. Please, stay with me_ , he says. 

It’s too late.

But no.

He can’t be dead.

He calls Kilgharrah because he can't lose him, _he can’t._

The dragon takes him to the lake and he drags his body towards the water, frantic, desperate.

_Merlin. There is nothing you can do._

He stops dead in his tracks.

_I've failed?_

The dragon shakes his head.

_No, young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building, has come to pass._

A horrible feeling settles in his stomach.

_I can't lose him! I love him!_

Kilgharrah looks at him with pity before speaking again.

_Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin...Arthur is not just a King-he is the Once and Future King. Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock-the story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men._

Kilgharrah then flies away, leaving him completely alone.

He's never been so alone.

He looks at the sword, that damn sword that reminds him of all his mistakes, of the path of death he’s paved. He hates it, he can’t stare at it for much longer. so he throws it to the lake. A hand surges from the water and takes it. 

_Thank you, Freya._

He takes a deep breath before looking back to where he left his King.

What goes next won’t be easy, but he has to do it.

He takes the cloak from his bag. The cloak that's Pendragon red but also the colour of blood. He ties it with trembling hand but practised ease around Ar- his King's shoulders and lets it fall gracefully over his strong figure. He carries him to the shore, as he did with Freya once and Lancelot after that and he can't help but hate that spiteful lake for hurting him so, for taking his happiness away and drowning it in its clear depths. Arthur's body is cold to the touch and heavy to carry, but heavy too is his heart so he thinks it's only fitting. Placing him on the boat he tries to be gentle. even now, he can’t bear to hurt him. He makes sure that everything’s perfect, that he looks like the King he _was-_ is.

And then it’s time.

He pushes the boat into the water and steps away, letting the tears flow freely from his eyes. How could he not? He’s lost his friend, his king, his love and it hurts more than he ever thought it would. It’s like the world has stopped and it’s tearing itself apart. Like it too has lost its life.

He knows he has. His life is with his King, with Arthur.

And now he has to let it go.

_Just hold me._

But he can’t.

_Arthur._

He says hoping to get a response, to find that it was all a bad dream, a nightmare he just has to wake up from. 

It’s not. 

And now he has to let go, if only until Arthur rises again.

He looks at the boat again and raises his hand.

_In sibbe gerest._

Rest in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an emotional rollercoaster so I'm glad it's finally done. Thanks to everyone who followed the series. Please, let me know what you think!


End file.
